


Deductions Amiss

by alice9



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Confused Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, but not really, surprise fail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 16:06:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alice9/pseuds/alice9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He sees, observes, and deduces, and the results leave him heartbroken. But he will do anything to keep John, even if it means having to keep his pain hidden and his mouth silent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deductions Amiss

**Author's Note:**

> So like most of my Fan fiction ideas this came to me listening to a song.

When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

His own words were coming back to haunt him, and no matter how much they hurt they were all that he had. It had seemed an impossible thing once in his mind, but the evidence had been piling up. His deductions left no room for error. For the first time in his life he wished that his mind was far less brilliant than it was. Even with his brilliant mind and his constant slaying of any sentiment that rose up within him he could do nothing to stop the pain he was feeling.   
He had first noticed it little over a month ago. John had stayed late for surgery, that’s what his words had said but as they kissed Sherlock noticed immediately that the smell of latex gloves, pre-op scrub, and the stale smell that accompanied the hospital were nowhere to be found. He could detect small hints from the office, the tea he kept in the drawer next to his memo pad, a fading red mark on his neck where he rubbed when his muscles would begin to cramp, but they were covered by the smell of gunpowder, ink, and traces of leather. Scotland Yard.   
“How was surgery?” He had asked to which John had replied, “Fine. Torn ACL. Nothing I can't handle. Should we order in?” 

Sherlock watched as John walked away into the kitchen and heard the familiar sound of the kettle being put onto the stove. 

“Sherlock?” John poked his head to look at him.

”Hm? Oh, yes. Order something. That’s fine.”

John smiled and retreated.

It was the first time John lied to him outside of the woman, which he knew had been what was referred to as a white lie. This one was not like that at all. John had rehearsed his words and said them with a calm ease and Sherlock wanted to believe him. He didn’t say anything about it.  
He replayed the image of John walking away into the kitchen only the kitchen wasn’t there. John was simply walking away. It made his stomach clench painfully and that became a feeling he would begin to have more often than not.

 

JNLK

 

Over the course of a month Johns lies continued and Sherlock kept ignoring them. He ignored how the shopping had suddenly become a bit longer because, as John told him, the grocery store was packed. There were crumbs on his sleeve where he had brushed against the front of his jumper obviously trying to get rid of any evidence of having been to a café.  
He ignored how John had been at Scotland Yard several times without him or said he walked home needing fresh air when he had clearly gotten out of a taxi around the block. One Friday he went out to the pub with an old friend and unless the pubs had started serving tea and homemade Chicken Marsala, which he highly doubted, he had never set foot into a pub. 

And then there was the pollen. That hurt the most. 

He had handled a variety of different bouquets before a particular one of roses, baby's breath and an assortment of ferns had caught his eyes. Completely clichéd. He'd held onto them the longest. 

He could smell the flowers all over him as their bodies came together that night and it took everything in his power not to think about who had received such a gift from John. His John. His love. 

He knew he was losing him. 

 

JNLK

 

When John was at ‘work’ and Sherlock was left sitting in the drawing room he sat for hours wondering if he confronted John, would he leave? The thought made him ill, worse so than knowing that John was seeing another. He studied Johns body more thoroughly, looking for physical signs. He found none and chalked it up to John being careful. Knowing physical markings would clearly be something that Sherlock would surely pick up on.   
Would John tell him about the affair? What if he was falling in love with this person? He assumed it was a woman.   
Several times he wanted to follow John but couldn’t bring himself to do it. If he saw John with someone else he knew it would kill him.  
John was the only one. Would be the only one. 

He made the decision to keep silent. As long as John came home he would deal with it. As long as John continued to come back to him, he would take what he could have. 

 

JNLK

 

“You’ve stopped deducing me.” John said quietly laying against Sherlock's chest one night. He could feel the small pull and push of his lips against his skin as John formed the words.   
Sherlock stroked a path across Johns shoulders. “I thought you’d find it tiresome after a while.”  
John kissed Sherlock's chest before stating. “Love, I will never tire of you.” Sherlock locked the words away in his mind palace and visited them every time John lied. 

 

JNLK

 

Molly obviously knew, but she wasn’t the other in his nightmare. It was the way she looked at him as he was looking at slides under the microscope, not the looks of flirtation she used to give him before John, no, she was deducing him. He would have laughed at her feeble attempt if it didn’t hurt so much. The question she wanted to know was blatant, like a neon sign above a whores motel. ‘Does he know yet?”  
Yes Molly. Yes I know.   
He kept the words to himself. 

 

JNLK

 

Of course Mycroft would know. There was nothing the man didn’t know. He let almost nothing slide as he sat across from Sherlock sipping his tea, his eyes boring annoying holes of knowing into Sherlock.  
“Did you need something Mycroft or did you just come to gorge on Mrs. Hudson's baked delicacies'?”

His tone betrayed him. How did Mycroft know? Did he have men spying on John and see him leave with the person? Were they caught on camera together? And the worst question of all that kept nagging him day and night, how long until he lost John? How long until he left?  
It was while he was trying to lock these questions away and divert his attention elsewhere that Mycroft spoke.

“How is your relationship with Dr. Watson?”

His heart stopped and then after a moment took off like a wild race horse. Every fiber of his being was composed to take hold and steady the breaths going into and out of his body. He heard the front door open and shut and listened as John began up the stairs.   
He stood and he could see the look of confusion pass over Mycroft's face in a blink, but he had no time to deduce it. 

“Its fine.” Sherlock lied. “And its none of your business.” He passed by Mycroft's chair and grabbed his jacket just as John entered the flat. He held a Tesco's bag, which is where he had stated he’d be stopping after work that morning, but stuffed haphazardly into the bag was a ticket stub for a train. He couldn’t see through the material of the bag to see the destination but John hadn't been on the train in months so it must have been today's. 

“Going out?” John asked. 

Sherlock turned grabbing hold of Johns shoulders before pushing him up against the doorframe kissing him hard. 

It would be soon, he knew John would be telling him and leaving him soon and he cared less to none that his brother was in the room as he poured every little bit of feeling his heart held for John into the kiss. 

John, when they parted, took a minute to breath. “Okay then.” He cleared his throat. “Where are you off to?”

He glanced at Mycroft who remained facing the sofa, another biscuit in hand. “Walk.”

“Understood. See you for dinner?”

Sherlock nodded and fled the flat as quickly as his feet would take him. 

 

JNLK

 

John set the groceries down on the counter and used its edge to hold himself up on his slightly jellied legs. That kiss, there was more in it then John was able to read into at the moment. “Jesus Mycroft, I asked you to annoy him just enough to leave for a bit. He seemed a mess. What the hell did you talk about?”

 

He heard Mycroft stand setting the tea set gently on its saucer then onto the table. As he made his way to the door John heard him speak, “I only inquired to how the relationship was going with you Dr. Watson. That’s all I had time for before he made his departure.”

“Does he know?” John asked hesitantly.

Mycroft's voice echoed up the stairwell as he descended. “No, I don’t believe so. Although it would seem to me he is rather worried about you. See you at five John.”

 

JNLK

 

It was a woman, he was sure of it now. A smudge of lipstick was on his cheek not completely rubbed off. Where had they gone on the train together? Was it her idea or his? Where had they met? Did she know about him? Was she content to be with a man, to wait for the man as he parted ways with Sherlock? How would he do it? How would John leave?

His feet moved him for hours as his mind tried to drown itself in every detail of the past few months began to choke him until he felt his throat closing in and his eyes fighting to let loose the floods that had been building. Sentiment, he allowed himself to become an emotional being, to believe that it was worth it. That loving someone was worth it. His whole world was collapsing in around him and he could do nothing about it. He’d given his heart to John, a heart he hadn't known existed before John and the worst part was that he didn’t want it back. He wanted John to have it, to hold it, he would do anything if John would love him again.  
Had he really been in love with him? The whole time, had it been real or a confusion on Johns part? 

He roamed the streets of London until his earlier promise of dinner forced him to go home. He had to make John stay. He didn’t care if he kept seeing this woman on the side. He didn’t care that it hurt so incredibly much and it made him feel as if he were dying. He was sure that if John left the pain would succeed in killing him. 

He could see that the light in the kitchen was on and as he made his way up onto the landing, angled toward the kitchen words poured from his mouth, afraid that if he didn’t speak immediately upon arriving he would never be able to.

“John, I don’t care if you keep seeing whoever she is as long as you don't ” His rant was cut off by the lights in the drawing room and a chorused shout of “SURPRISE!”

He froze nearly into the kitchen and turned his head over his shoulder. Lestrade, Molly, Dimmock, Mrs. Hudson, Angelo, Mycroft and John stood in the drawing room filled with balloons and tacked up streamers under a printed banner that stated ‘Happy Super Surprise Birthday.’ He stood up straight and turned fully to look at them. 

His birthday wasn’t for another six months exactly. His brain quickly started whirring until it stopped on a conversation he had with John almost a month after his last birthday when they were attending a surprise party for one of Johns friends. 

“You’ve never had a surprise party?”

“No, I’ve had them. I said I’ve never been surprised by them.”

John had scoffed. “Never, not even once? A little bit?”

“Never. I’ve always been able to deduce it before its happened. After twelve mummy stopped trying.”

“That’s it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to surprise you stupid.” John spoke with such determination. 

“And I will do my best to act surprised.” Sherlock had then made a mocked up surprised face that made John roll his eyes. 

Sherlock's mind kicked into overdrive.

He stopped at the Yard to talk with Lestrade.   
Molly was invited and wanted to know if he’d caught on.   
Mrs. Hudsons friend Claire Barker had a niece who was married shortly after the flowers. Mrs. Hudson had volunteered to do flowers, John went along to talk with her.  
Angelo made the Chicken Marsala the night of the ‘pub.’  
He’d met with Mycroft at the café.  
He took the train up to Salandros Bakery to get the cake sitting on the table. Molly was excited when John gave it to her to bring it later in the night. Kiss on the cheek. She was wearing the new lipstick now.  
He was staying late at work then catching the cab in order to make it seem like he was walking instead of saving on overtime.   
Mycroft had come over earlier to piss Sherlock off in order to get him to leave the flat long enough for everything to be set up.

Sherlock was surprised.   
Sherlock was relieved

John was holding his elbow gently trying to get his attention.   
“What were you saying when you came in?” He asked quietly and Sherlock could tell it was not the first time he’d asked.   
Sherlock brought his hand up rubbing his thumb gently over the place where the smudge of Molly's lipstick had been before the shower had washed it away. “It’s a new shade. I didn’t recognize the color.” His words came out quietly. “The cabs and crumbs and smells, they were all wrong and I was afraid.” He removed his hand from Johns face and covered his own face with it, trying to quell his conflicting emotions that were threatening to explode. 

John pushed gently at him moving him towards the stairs and told everyone else to give them a minute and to make themselves comfortable. 

Johns hand stayed gently on his back as they ascended until they reached the bedroom and John removed it shutting the door behind him. Sherlock walked a few more feet forward. 

“I don’t care if you keep seeing whoever she is as long as you don't,” John repeated his words quietly and waited.   
The air was thick as Sherlock took in a steadying breath to finish the sentence. “As long as you don’t leave me.” His voice shook more than intended but he couldn’t help it. The relief he felt knowing John wasn’t having an affair was only a small joy slowly being pushed to the back by his foolishness. John must think him a fool now, and he was waiting for the anger he was sure John felt towards him for doubting him. He slowly explained from the first lie how he had deduced wrongly. How conflicting it had been to know Johns character and to know he had been lying. How he had completely forgotten the conversation they had surrounding surprise birthdays and if he had thought of it he would have been able to make sense of his muddle brains and emotions.

“Where you surprised?” John asked quietly. 

“Yes.” Sherlock sighed. 

He listened to John move away from the door. “Sherlock, turn around and look at me.”

Hesitantly he did. Johns hands came up gently holding his face between his palms fingers threading into Sherlock's curls. “I'm not upset love. In your brilliantly massive brain I see exactly how you came to the conclusion that I was stepping out. But why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“It hurt too much to think that..”

“That what?” John prompted, his thumb gently stroking the side of Sherlocks face. 

“It hurt me knowing, no, thinking that you were seeing someone else. I could live with that. If you needed someone else I would have kept my mouth shut indefinitely, but the thought of you leaving, not being here at all, it killed me John. It would kill me if I lost you and I’d rather love you blindly than have no one to love at all.”

The hands on his face tightened fractionally as John pulled him forward until their lips met. Sherlock felt the last of his emotions pushing through the barrier and he clung to John, each ounce of pain he’d locked inside of him came pouring out, relief falling over him like a wave.   
Johns not leaving me. John isn't leaving. His heart pulsed the words through his veins.

“I love you Sherlock. I do, so much you great tall git.” John spoke as he kissed at the tears falling from Sherlock's eyes. “Don't keep something like that from me, please. I'm sorry I confused you love, I really am. I’ll never do it again.” 

Sherlock bent down burying his face in Johns neck and Johns strong arms came around his back holding him fiercely. “I'm sorry John. I ruined it.”

“No you didn’t. You can't help it if I forget you have the emotional capacity of a jealous teenage girl with the mind of a god.” When they pulled apart John was smiling at him and Sherlock couldn’t help but smile back. John kissed him quickly before pushing him back. “Sit on the bed for a minute. I'll be right back.” Sherlock complied and watched John leave the room. It was the first time in months that the fear of him not returning was non-existent. 

When John came back he stood over Sherlock kissing his forehead sweetly. “Now I’ve got one more surprise and I swear I'm not leaving and it’s the last surprise ill ever pull. Promise.” 

Sherlock watched as he then reached into his back pocket pulling out a band of silver holding it between them in his thumb and forefinger. 

Working overtime.

“Sherlock Holmes I love you more than I ever thought I was capable of loving anyone and knowing that you continued to love me, that you kept your pain locked inside yourself these past few months because you love me too much to let me go makes me feel completely and utterly wrecked by the way you feel about me. I'm honored to be able to love you Sherlock, marry me?”

 

JNLK

 

The surprise party had been a success after all. Mycroft had put together the final piece of the puzzle and told everyone what deductions his younger brother had naturally come to. So when John and Sherlock finally came downstairs Johns right in Sherlock's left lifting it high above his head and shouted ‘He said yes!’ they could all see the silver band on Sherlock's hand, and the bright smile he wore that he couldn’t seem to get rid of for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> So I personally am not satisfied with the ending, however, it has sat on my computer for far too long and something needed to be done about it. Its not a bad ending, just a bit cheesy. What did you think? Let me know how you liked it, and thanks for stopping by!


End file.
